Coward's Strength
by thundercalls
Summary: A tag for The Lost Tribe. / Jennifer's thoughts after Ronon walks away during their last scene. Ronon/Keller, T for innuendo. / Complete. Full length sequel in the works.
1. Coward's Strength

My first SGA fanfic. I seriously only started watching two weeks ago, with Tracker airing before First Contact and that was it. I ended up downloading a bunch of season 4 episodes and all of season 5. I admit that I only started watching for Jewel Staite, but I'm in love with the thought of Ronon and Keller. If you're like me and just finished watching the new episode, you're incredibly upset and disappointed. Especially with this being the final season, I was hoping they'd give Ronon a little sugar. As long as it was Keller. Plus McKay kinda annoys me, lol.

* * *

I almost backed out. I _almost_ couldn't say what I was about to say with the look on his face. The hope that I wasn't about to say what I was about to say. The insinuation. The impending lie. How could I be interested in someone else? Did he not understand?

_I'm interested in someone else. _

How the hell could he believe that kind of blasphemy? But he drank it in. Brushed it off as if it hadn't been his intention. The Ronon way of maintaining his cool façade of nonchalance while protecting himself from the embarrassment of rejection.

As the thought of the Daedalus crashing into the base had sunk in, all I could think about was Ronon heading towards Todd to engage battle. The thought that he was going to put himself in that amount of danger had never really sank beneath the surface on any other mission. Probably because I'd never been there to witness him run off in pure determination. But when I was about to die on the same ship with him and hadn't so much as hugged him, let alone told him how I truly felt, it'd seemed pertinent that I tell him.

Then Sheppard saved us and I had the opportunity. Even after I'd returned to my quarters and sat on the bed shaking from fear and adrenaline receded, I'd wanted to tell him everything. How everything had started to make sense. The way he'd smirked when he came into the infirmary in the middle of the night and Sheppard not entirely convincing on getting in a lucky shot. The ability to admit that he was plagued by a nightmare minutes later when he woke up while I was stitching him; the vulnerability he'd shown to me when he didn't with anyone else. The sly looks he seemed to send at me. His protective nature was natural to him, but the way he'd been ready to behead Kiryk after he'd kidnapped me was different. Coming on the trip with me to administer the drug to the Wraith, which ended up being a good thing. And naturally the quarantine episode was prominent. Not only with his openness about his past, but the almost kiss.

It wasn't until after I'd emptied what little food I'd been reluctant to eat upon arrival back on Atlantis into the porcelain bowl and the subsequent dry heaves afterwards that I realized that I wasn't built for a life of that. I couldn't sit back in the infirmary and wonder if he'd be coming back through the gate with every mission. I couldn't remain objective if he came back injured gravelly where I had to save his life. I'd be having a nervous breakdown, if the way my stomach dropped every time he came into the infirmary with so much as a cut from a sparring accident was any indication. That was on Atlantis, a safe environment. Things could easily become a million times worse on uncharted planet missions.

My empty stomach revolted against the look on his face as he brushed past me without so much as a backwards glance or 'see you later'. Suddenly he wasn't hungry and I never wanted to eat again. I felt like the air had been sucked from the room as he left me there, and I remained in the hallway for moments after. People passed by, colleagues even who gave me strange glances. I barely registered them as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest, moving into my throat and throbbing loudly in my head. My eyes burned as I stared unblinkingly at the spot he'd been.

It could've been hours or merely minutes before the air choked me. His scent hung in the air tauntingly. _This is what you just threw away._ It said. It choked me, filling my senses and slowly suffocating me with thoughts of what could have been. Lying in bed post mission, his pent up energy spent and you thoroughly sore in the best possible way. You didn't exactly think Satedan's were big on human traditions such as dates or hand holding, so you'd be content to alone time in either of your quarters to beat away worries and frustrations when he returned to the gate. As a matter of fact, I was aware of Sateda's traditions not being like human ones. Being the always studious one, I'd asked and looked up as much stuff on Sateda that Atlantis had to offer without going to Ronon himself.

And now, none of it mattered. I successfully managed to convince him that I was interested in someone else. _Rodney_ of all people, I'm sure is who comes to mind to him. Rodney's… Rodney. He's dependable, nice, incredibly smart, cute in a bumbling way: the typical guy who reminds you of a puppy… but he wasn't Ronon.

Ronon was someone you knew you could count on to love you with his body and soul and defend you with his life. He was strength and warmth, survival and hope. Everything that I wanted, but couldn't have. I'd turned myself in to Todd to not only buy him time to find the others, but to save him. Todd wasn't as hostile as I imagined him to be upon being dragged to him by his Wraith -- even if he had rigged the ship to crash into a facility to kill a device and hundreds of his enemies in the process. He seemed to like me, and I used that to my advantage. I'd hoped to my advantage that he wouldn't kill me the second he saw me. I was right, but for the wrong reasons. I'd be dead in a short time regardless. Or so he assumed.

When Ronon had dropped from the ceiling, literally, and blasted the Wraith in order to rescue me, I'd been grateful. But when he handed me the gun and I fired it… it wasn't me. Even with Nabal; I was a healer, not a killer. Ronon was a warrior. Killer and warrior were two very different words, opposite definitions. But I was neither. He needed someone as strong and sure as he was. Neither of which I was, on top of dozens of other reasons.

Truth was, I cared for him a lot more than words could explain. I don't know how he didn't know. I don't know how he could think I'd willingly choose _Rodney _over him. Speak of the devil. Here's Rodney himself, blabbing animatedly about how he'd shut down the device that nearly killed all of us, including thousands of innocent lives when a 'gate had burst.

There was a shift in the air. The same shift that always happened when Ronon entered the room. I didn't have to turn around to find him. His eyes were pinned to me, watching me as I stood blankly in the same exact spot he'd left me in, Rodney now in his place. In his mind, that place referred to more than one spot. But really, Rodney only stood in front of me. He didn't stand with me. Not like Ronon did on so many occasions.

I realized he might be waiting for me to contradict myself. Something I couldn't let happen. I couldn't let him know the truth. I replied to Rodney that what he did was heroic and added a little bit of simpering into my tone as I grasped his bicep, unconsciously comparing them to how they weren't anything like Ronon's. I dismissed myself quickly, heading towards my quarters. His presence stole my breath, even that was enough to get me to want to take back what I said. But it was too dangerous. For myself. For him. If he was worried about me, like he'd been when he tried to talk me out of turning myself in, it could cost _both_ of our lives. It wasted time. Time he could've been ahead and rescued the others. Maybe gotten to the control panel before Todd had locked everyone out.

My quarters were _right there_ when Evan Lorne came out of no where and started talking with me. He was nice and we were tentative friends. He was relieved that I was okay, and hugged me quickly before he left. He was like the brother I'd never had but always wanted. Maybe that sent the wrong signal to Ronon too, because there was suddenly a crackling energy in the air. Apparently Ronon perceived Lorne as more of a threat than Rodney. Setting aside my surrogate familial feelings towards him, I suppose Lorne was attractive, but Ronon was the only one I wanted.

I paused briefly in the doorway to my quarters, imagining myself turning towards him and conveying with one look that I'd lied. I imagined the unrealistic and elaborate movie cliché where he'd sweep towards me and we'd be locked in a passionate embrace of messy limps and a fight for dominance in a heated kiss as we tumbled into my quarters and fell on the bed just as the doors slid to meet in a close.

But I resisted. I walked into the room and swiped my hand out blindly to close the door. I checked behind me to make sure it was, before collapsing heavily on the bed and releasing the tears that had fought to come to the surface since I'd first saw Ronon in the hallway on the Daedalus after the imminent threat was over. I'd wanted to throw myself around him and never let go out of fear that I'd watch him walk off again and not gather the courage to go after him. I'd taken the cowards way out and put down the weapon and stayed behind to encourage Marks.

I sat on the bed, alone, sobbing my heart out. It felt like I was, knowing that I'd never be able to be with Ronon the way I wanted to while war raged on with the Wraiths and against Atlantis. I wasn't strong enough and he was too strong to sit back and let go of the hunt. I wasn't selfish enough to ask that of him. Not after everything he'd been through. I wasn't going to disregard who he was to suit my selfish wants. Even though I'd never wanted anything else in my life.

Maybe a sabbatical was what I needed. I hadn't seen my father in a long time, and being around Ronon right now just wasn't an option. I couldn't lie all the time by convincingly seeming attracted to Rodney. Even Lorne would be difficult. I wouldn't lead them along anyways. Maybe Ronon would end up assuming I meant someone he didn't know. Maybe someone for Earth. Especially if I went there suddenly after everything that happened.

I activated my link and called Woolsey. Thus solidifying that I, Jennifer Keller, was a coward.

* * *

If the mood strikes me, I _might _continue this in a full fledged fiction, but I don't know enough about Atlantis. I seriously only downloaded episodes of season 4 that Keller was in (although I bought season 4 today from Best Buy!) and I've seen all of season 5 so far. So I don't think I'm comfortable enough delving into a full fan fiction for this couple when I barely know anything about the series. That's unfair to readers. But I hope you enjoyed this as a better look into what I hope is the answer behind Keller's behavior at the end. This is my first fanfic in a really long time that's outside of my comfort zone. I'm not too good with first person POV, so I really hope you've made it to the closing author note.

Thank you for reading!

Ashley aka Loves A Fool.


	2. Irony

First off, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! I really appreciate the kind words on my first SGA fic. In part, because of that, I got struck to branch out a little more. This'll remain as 'complete' however, in case my inspiration to continue fizzles out. If it _doesn't_ fizzle out, then I'll remove the POV of Jennifer and make it into regular third person POV that I'm comfortable with. Although, it'd maintain from Jen's perspective 'cause that's what I'm comfortable with seeing as I'm still not 100 percent in the know with the SGA universe.

* * *

I stayed in Chippewa Falls for a couple of months, unable to face what I'd forced myself to let go of. Woolsey had no problem with the CMO deciding to leave base for several months. Especially not after I'd threatened to quit altogether, thus losing him most of the medical staff that I pleaded with weekly to stay on board as my team even though Woolsey had a bug up his ass that was worse than the Wraith sometimes. After reiterating that fact for the third time, I learned he was under as much pressure to get me to return because of the fact that my staff wasn't too keen on taking orders from him without me there to soften to blow -- also known as annoyance -- of having to deal with Woolsey. Everyone missed Sam. Elizabeth wasn't something anyone could fix, but Sam had been fired unjustly. No one liked Woolsey except Woolsey.

I'd spent most of my time back home with my father, or sitting out staring at the waterfront. Reflecting. Never a good thing for a person who's just gave up the one person that they truly cared about. In hindsight, I suppose one could think I barely knew Ronon and vice versa. But that's what's it's all about. You care about someone as you get to know them and take it from there. I got to know some very intimate things about Ronon in various states. You don't spend hours at a time without learning something about someone. Whether you count the quarantine instance as one, or the times we spent when he was teaching me to fight… it's not like we're strangers.

It'd be easier if we were strangers. If he'd been right about me and I'd been too weak for Atlantis. I'd have ended up back in Chippewa Falls months ago. Months before I already did. Truth was, I was strong enough for Atlantis -- as long as I didn't go on any off-world missions. I was just too weak for Ronon. A thought that stabbed through my body worse than a stun blast. Nothing hurts more than not being good enough for the person you want to be with.

But now, here I was aboard the Daedalus, being brought back to Atlantis when I didn't want to. But I was needed. There was some sort of outbreak from a weird plant that Rodney had introduced to Atlantis's vastly different atmosphere from its original. Most of the doctors in my infirmary had been given cots of their own after prolonged exposure to victims. It wasn't deadly or anything of the sort thankfully. It was almost like the Wraith enzyme. It caused easy addiction towards euphoria, along with hallucinations with the onset. So far, there was dependencies on caffeine (half the damn staff had that to begin with) and apparently a few instances with sex. That should be interesting. At least it wasn't that blasted crystal that created Sheppard-featured nightmares.

A shudder passed along my spine as I remembered Ronon jerking awake beneath my hands, his hand gripping my wrist in a vice grip that startled me less than the alarm on his face. I'd never seen Ronon look like that and never wanted to ever again. It wasn't like him to show vulnerability. It worried me when he did. It always reminded me of when he'd been detoxing from when he'd been captured by the Wraith. How I'd gone in to press the cool cloth to his head as he thrashed and screamed, begging for someone to kill him. He'd pitifully asked me to once, and I'd gone back to my office and sobbed quietly for a good fifteen minutes.

"Doctor Keller," one of the marines came up to me with a business-like air, thankfully disrupting my unpleasant thoughts, "We're ready, if you'd like to come to the deck."

I smiled tightly at him, my stomach flipping nervously, unrelentingly. _I_ wasn't ready. Not to face Ronon after I ran away in more ways than one. Not ready to face Rodney who was in love with me but annoyed me more often than naught. I wasn't even ready to face Lorne, lying in a hospital bed going through withdrawal. It'd been hard enough watching Ronon go through it.

He wasn't there when I stepped back onto Atlantis. I didn't really expect him to be, but I'd hoped. Sheppard was there, as well as Woolsey and Teyla. I'd only kept in contact with Teyla and Lorne while I was away. Woolsey didn't count… I'd tried to ignore him as much as humanly possible. Then he'd found my father's home phone number and all was lost when the man practically chided me for ignoring my boss who so generously gave me the time off to come visit him. Can you sense the sarcasm when I saw 'generously'? Woolsey had almost _begged_ me not to go. I think it had to do with the fact that to his knowledge, I was one of the few who could keep Ronon at bay. But that all went up in smoke when I told him I wasn't interested. _Lied_. No mixing words. It was a blue-faced _lie_.

"Welcome back to Atlantis, Doctor Keller. I wish it were under better circumstances." Woolsey said gravelly, stepping out from between Sheppard and Teyla to welcome me back with a small smile and dark circles underneath his eyes.

"How is everyone?" I asked immediately, stepping into foreign shoes of a doctor. I hadn't been one for months aside from patching my father up during a semi-mid life crisis that entailed a very bad idea of roller skating down a road with the incline of a small hill all the while shouting that he was still 'spry'.

"The worst has passed thanks to McKay." Sheppard stepped in, stepping past Woolsey with a tight smile towards me. No doubt his side lay with Ronon if the Satedan had mentioned the day in the hall after returning from the Daedalus.

"Yes," Teyla began, sensing the tension in Sheppard. "He traveled back to the planet and found a cure."

"Then why was I brought back early?" I wanted to know, bile raising in my throat at the thought of having to come back for nothing when I wasn't ready. Though, I wasn't sure I'd _ever_ be ready.

"We don't have anyone medically trained that can properly administer the drug. Whenever we tried to get someone to go near the sick to give them the shot, they got extremely violent." Woolsey informed me, his eyes narrowing in memory of what was more than like him trying to administer it, "They developed extreme paranoia since we last spoke, Doctor Keller. They thought we were trying to do a number of things."

"The best one was McKay thinking we were trying to probe him." Sheppard cracked with a chortle as he remembered the incident.

"Rodney got sick?" I asked in alarm. If paranoia was one of the side effects from the plant, then bad judgment could be too and we could be about to administer a heavier dose of what they have. One that could prove to be fatal.

"He's fine." A gruff voice sounded from my right in the shadows, successfully stiffening my spine. _His_ gruff voice. It figured. He had to come in right when I displayed worry for _Rodney_. Someone cosmically was getting a laugh out of this. I knew it.

"I just want to make sure he wasn't sick when he got whatever you think this cure is. It could've impaired his judgment and we might be about to administer something that'll counteract with the sickness they already have and make them worse. Possibly kill them." I explained without looking at the one person I wanted to. I knew that if I looked at him, I'd turn into a stuttering mess. Incredibly ineloquent. Not something that I needed him to see nor was good for the situation at hand.

"He got sick afterwards. He directly inhaled the pollen from the plant so that we could inject him with the drug to make sure it worked. He felt guilty and wanted to be the guinea pig. But seeing as he inhaled so much of it, it came on a lot faster and a lot worse than the others who had days more exposure." Sheppard placed his hands on his hips in a defensive position once Ronon came out of the shadows. Alpha males tend to stick together when they share the territory.

"Alright, well I'll need someone to hold everyone down while I administer the drug. But I still think we should check it first…"

"We've already thought of that, Doctor." Woolsey interrupted me as if he knew where I was going with my thought train and caused me to glare at him. He looked sternly back at me, unfazed, before saying, "Teyla and Ronon are immune to this and we can't risk volunteering anyone else to do this. I certainly can't and neither can Sheppard. We just have to go on blind faith."

_Blind faith?_ Doctors don't believe in that. "Are the plants in McKay's lab? I'll need to know the basic components for the plants before I administer the drug so that I don't go in completely blind." I said with a bit of a nasty tone towards Woolsey who was basically asking me to possibly mass murder dozens of Atlantis's people. When he nodded, I smiled softly at Teyla and then gave curt nods to the gentlemen. Ronon was blocking my path to the hall that would ultimately lead me to McKay's lab. I kept my eyes adverted as I rounded him, not missing the masculine scent that wafted off of him and had become ingrained in my memory. I would catch a whiff of the scent in the middle of the night in my bedroom or in the wind on the piers back in Chippewa Falls. Longing to be with him and galaxies away.

McKay's lab was in odd disarray when I got there. The plants were clearly marked. Paranoid scribbles of 'evil' on a memo card in front of a purple flower that resembled a lily, and 'good' in front of a green flower that seemed to resemble a Venus flytrap. Ironic. The pretty is the ugly and the ugly is the pretty in a way. His notes said that they'd brought back dozens of the flytrap looking one and made a liquid cure from the sap in the stem. There was a needle on the desk with a clear liquid in the syringe that slowly flowed with bubbles as I shifted it into my hand and held it up. It reminded me of liquid soap with its languid fluidity.

I was apprehensive to administer this to everyone. McKay, Marie, _Lorne_. Evan was so much like a brother, I just couldn't bring myself to push a possible death sentence into his veins. And as I stared at the lily, I felt intrigued by its beauty. Something so evil was so gorgeous.

There was only one way to know for certain that it wouldn't kill everyone. Taking a deep breath, I stuck my nose right into the lily and inhaled deeply. The pollen tickled my nose, sending me into sneezes that violently ripped through my throat. I cried out at the force, feeling like fire burned through me as my head started throbbing viciously. In the back of my mind, I heard a growl. Familiar, yet not. Fear ripped through me, the paranoia kicking in that someone was out to get me in the shadows. The way they morphed against the person moving through them, the lights dim and unwelcoming.

Logic warred with the hallucinogen as strong arms wrapped around my torso, dragging me to the ground as I thrashed against them and caught a heavenly aroma in the air. A mix of the pollen and _him_. He wrestled me to the ground, wrapping one arm around me again to trap my arms against my own body as his legs crossed over mine and his feet planted firmly on the insides of my knees to pin them. It was only a few moments before I felt something stab me sharply in the neck. A quick pinch and then I was gone.

As blackness receded, bleeding from the inside out to show Rodney's lab, I knew it'd only been a few minutes as my body slowed in convulses. I could tell they'd been doing that from the tingles that spread through my body and the soft aftershocks that still jerked my arms and legs, arched my spine.

"Did it work?" I asked weakly, leaning back against Ronon for some support as I tried to catch my bearings. It's a weird experience to lose your mind so quickly and then gain it back just as fast.

"Yes." Was the soft growl that reached my ear as he tightened around me. I wondered if that was his way of strangling me. Maybe that's how it was done on Sateda. The bear hug of death. I laughed at that a little. Breathless, tired gasps of air. "What are you laughing at? You could've just killed yourself!"

"So?" I panted out, blinking a few times to get the starbursts out of my vision. White noise of unconsciousness. "We found out the drug worked without having to kill anyone."

"It could've killed you." His tone was quiet, but there was rage beneath the tone as he tried to keep calm and not startle the woozy atmosphere.

"But it didn't. I can administer it now." I said as I pulled myself away from him with much effort. For one, I didn't want to move away from his solid, warm chest or the spicy cologne that wasn't cologne at all. It was purely Ronon. And two, I was still a little twitchy which made me wobbly on my own two feet. "I have to go do this. McKay… Marie… Lorne," I sifted through everything just to double check, knowing the injectors already in the lab I'm sure from their last attempt at administering the drug. "They all need this. Who knows what'll happen if we wait any longer." I looked up at him for the first time, startled by the dark rage that burned through his eyes, the hard set of his face. A muscle jumped beneath the skin as he clenched his jaw. I wondered if he knew the vein in his neck throbbed when he was pissed off. "I need you to come with me and hold them down."

I walked away after that, not wanting to wait anymore. I couldn't hold this off any longer, the people in the infirmary needed the drug.

After I'd administered it to Lorne, the first to have came down with it, I nearly lost my lunch. I cared about Lorne, and I was pretty sure Ronon cared about me. So if he'd watched me go through what I watched Lorne go through, I can't imagine how he hadn't beheaded me for purposely bringing that on myself. I gave Rodney the second dose and _that_ had been awkward. Worse than Lorne. Ronon had looked at me with that angry gaze he'd gave me back in McKay's lab, holding down Rodney with a little more force than necessary. I feigned indifference altogether.

Several hours later, everyone was recuperating. Weak and confused, but otherwise okay. I barely made it into my quarters before I collapsed. It'd been a long and tiring day for my first day back on Atlantis. Everyone sure knew how to make a girl feel missed.

I still felt tingly from the convulsions which had wracked violently against the people I'd gave the cure to. One of my nurses had almost snapped her neck because hers were so bad. It made me feel even more guilty towards Ronon for what I was doing to him. First lying, then leaving, now _that_. _Against_ him no less. Even _I_ had a hard time watching people go through the seizures. The marines were difficult to watch and even Sheppard had grimaced when he came in to help hold down the stronger marines that Ronon couldn't handle on his own. Plus, Ronon had nearly killed one of Lorne's team when he got in a knee to my stomach. That still smarted, but the exhaustion was wearing it down.

I was half asleep when my door opened, shocking me into a state of alert and a sitting position. It was Ronon. "How'd…?" I asked confusedly, knowing I must look like a confused puppy as I looked between him and the door. I hadn't set it for him to be able to enter.

"Don't **ever** do that again." Was his only response. The growl beneath his tone made it clear he was trying to keep his temper in check, his fists clenched at his sides as his gaze smoldered with rage and an emotion I'd never seen displayed on Ronon before. Not that there were many.

"What?" I questioned, "Leave or inject myself with a drug that could've killed me?" I quipped, feeling a little bold in my drained state.

"Both." He said angrily, before turning and leaving without another word. The door closed behind him before I could respond, shaken by the look he'd been giving me as he'd said 'both'. He mostly meant leave. I could tell that it'd hurt him.

Ironic. I'm trying to protect him. Protect the both of us, by staying away. And I hurt him even more than I had when I told him I was interested in someone else. I'd hurt him even more by leaving than I had by almost killing myself in front of him. Collapsing onto my bed, I resolved to worry about it in the morning. I needed sleep. Ronon would plague my dreams like he had every night since the quarantine, so it's not like I was blowing him off or forgetting about him anyways. That was entirely impossible.

* * *

Hmm. Should I continue with another? I'm not too sure. I don't even know what struck me to do this. I'm on a brand new laptop and by all means should be loading all my files and previous stories/WIPs and pictures and music and videos on and yet R/K keeps calling to me to write something! I think it's 'cause _that_ scene affected me more than any other ship scene as before. So I suppose these are my ways of coping or rectifying it.

Hope you liked this continuation!


	3. Goodbye

This one takes are really angst turn. My 19th birthday is two weeks from today (27th, seeing as it'll probably be the 28th when this gets up) and it'll be the first birthday without two very important people. In April one of my close friends was murdered and then on Father's Day my grandfather passed away, so it's been an emotional year and with my birthday coming up, it's all just sinking in that I won't see or talk to either of them on that day. Plus, the day before my birthday (and coincidentally my sister's birthday) makes the 8th year since my grandmother passed away. It'll just be a really trying time for my family and I think this is where this spawns from.

* * *

Sometimes, things in life just aren't fair. You know you can't change what happened, but you vow to whoever listened above you that you'd do whatever you could to change it. You even offered your own life. But it was all in vain. No one was listening and you were stuck with the one task you never wanted. Planning a family member's funeral.

My father has passed away. Peacefully in his sleep. People were sorry for the loss. That's supposed to give comfort. I was trained in medical school to give that automatic response to grieving families when the matriarch passes away or the ventilator hisses to a stop at your own hand.

Here… when you're the one experiencing it… you really just want to punch someone in the face. And I'm not a violent sort of person, so you know that I'm grieving. My heart feels like someone's squeezing it and trying to force it through my throat.

Woolsey had been the one to offer the condolences after Sam told me that my father was gone. The whole crew was in the room. Sheppard, Teyla, McKay, Lorne, Ronon. Sam had came back to Atlantis personally to tell me the news. After we'd been stuck in the Genii mine with Rodney, she and I had maintained a good friendship that extended after she was unjustly let go from her position on Atlantis. She'd felt the need to do it in person. Give the bad news. _Bad_ didn't even begin to cover it.

_I'm sorry Jen, but your father passed away._

I knew the moment I'd walked into the room that something had happened to my father. I just never expected to be told he's _gone_. I'd gone straight into denial, whispered 'no's gaining volume as tears slowly slid down my face in rivulets. I turned to leave the room when my legs gave out underneath me. Arm had wrapped around me in a hug and to catch me from falling. I knew it was Lorne. My friend, my brother. My father would've loved him. It was that thought that sent me into a catatonic state. I barely registered anything as I was led from the room and into my own quarters. Teyla packed for me, Sheppard made arrangements with Sam to have all of us brought back to Earth.

What shook me from my state was seeing Ronon walk in front of me when we were aboard the ship. He looked at me blankly, slowing in his step slightly, before continuing on after finally getting a reaction from me. In the back of my mind I'd known that Rodney, Teyla, Sheppard, Lorne, and Sam had came. I never expected Ronon to be one of the people to come. Not after everything we'd been through in the last few months.

First I lied to him and told him I was interested in someone else. Then I left for two and a half months to go back to Chippewa Falls before returning during an outbreak caused by a nasty plant that I'd purposely infected myself with to administer to cure on myself so that we knew if it was safe. He'd been there to witness horrible convulsions and stab me with the needle to save my life. Then we dutifully ignored each other for another month and a half. Four months that we've barely spoke, and here he was coming to my father's funeral.

Here he was in my father's house. It was modest, enough for my parents and I growing up. A nice three bedroom where you built memories and a family. Photos through the years sat atop the mantel, starting with me beaming into the camera in a 'happy sixth birthday' party hat and two missing front teeth and ending with my graduation photo from medical school between my two parents. Both of whom were gone.

Suddenly though I felt nervous about all these people being here. In my house. I wondered if it was more or less than what they expected. I wondered if they cared at all what it looked like. I was insecure about my own home. But maybe that's because it'd been awhile since I really considered this home anymore. Atlantis had snuck up and bit me in the ass. I never intended for it to become one, but it had definitely became my home. Especially now that I had no one left on Earth.

"How are you doing, Doctor Keller?" Teyla came up to me and asked softly, her hand cupping my shoulder blade as she caught my attention, tearing it away from the smiling faces of my parents.

"It's Jennifer here, Teyla." I reminded her, my voice unused and throaty. I looked at her briefly before face the photos again. I'd have to pack them up and bring them back with me. Deal with selling the house, cleaning everything out of it, making sure it was livable and up to date for the next occupants. I didn't know if I could handle that. I didn't want money from the house. I just wanted someone to raise a family in it like my parents had.

"Jennifer," she reiterated, "Are you alright?"

I thought it was a stupid question and barely held back from biting her head off. "I…" I trailed off, hesitating on admitting that I wasn't. I needn't break now. There was time for that after the funeral. After receiving condolence after condolence from the people who knew my father. After watching him be lowered into the ground next to my mother. After I get back to Atlantis, to my own room where no one would hear anguished sobs of heart break. "I'll be fine, yes." I settled on saying. In time, possibly, it'd be true. "Excuse me, tell everyone to make themselves comfortable." I said quietly, turning away from her and nearly running into Sheppard in the process. I excused myself hastily from him too, before I darted for the stairs.

His room smelt like him. The unique, comforting scent that I'd inhaled deeply with every hug I gave him. There was a lingering trace of my mother that would never depart. My throat constricted as in all hit me at once. All the pain, the loss, the heartache. A small sob escaped me, buckling me forward as one hand curled around my stomach and the other around my mouth as nausea tried to mingle with the tears that forced themselves out.

I stumbled to the closet, suddenly bumping into everything in my father's room as if I'd never been in there before, and wrenched the doors open. I collapsed to the floor, resting my temple against the wall as I slid the doors closed and surrounded myself in the scent of my parents that would only remain as a memory from now on.

The tails of a winter jacket tickled my cheek, the sleeve brushing across my head as if it were him caressing the golden locks away from my face and whispering soothing words that only a father could give his daughter and almost make her believe it was alright. Just like when Mom had died. But now it was my imagination that was attempting to comfort me.

I didn't expect anyone to not hear the bangs or even the sobs. I just didn't really expect it to be Sheppard that came in and sat with me. He opened to closet door and slid to the ground against the opposite wall, stretching his legs out as much as he could and just _sat_.

It wasn't until I heard a slight hiss and a clink that I realized he hadn't came alone. He'd found my father's aged scotch and a couple of shot glasses. I didn't ask why he hadn't grabbed regular glasses. I could use a full glass, even though I wasn't much of a drinker. Doctors couldn't really be hung over on a base that was targeted by hostile alien races that wanted to attack at any moment. It wasn't good to have a migraine and shaky hands when patching people up. And the scent of blood didn't exactly quell a nervous stomach after a few beers and tequila.

The scotch filled three quarters of the glass and was passed across. An offer of momentary friendship. Forget about Ronon, what he and I danced around, the 'sides', and just share a shot of scotch. I took the glass without a seconds thought and knocked it back, coughing as it burned down my throat and settled unkindly in the pit of my empty stomach.

"Looking at those pictures on the mantel… can't help but be a little jealous." John stated without looking at me, filling his own shot and swigging it back a little more carefully and practiced than I had. "My father's idea of pictures on the mantel were publicity shots from corporate events where everything was about as fake as the Christmas trees stationed in every room of every house with a pine tree air freshener in the room. We weren't a big family, family." He glanced up, memories shining in his eyes as his voice got gruff from grief, "When he died, I didn't really know what to think. He'd mapped out my life and showed contempt towards what I'd chosen. And when I showed up at the wake… I barely had time to absorb everything when we had a Replicator problem. It wasn't easy. Especially after being estranged from my brother and father for so long."

I smiled ruefully. Estrangement. The first thing that came to mind, even here with John Sheppard drinking shots from shot glasses in my family home where my father had died feet away in his bed, Ronon came to mind. It prompted me to silently ask for another shot. It went down smoother than the first.

"Everything works itself out in time." John said as he watched me carefully, his eyes narrowed slightly in speculation.

"I'm a doctor, Colonel…"

"John. We're off duty and off base. Right now I'm just a friend." He interrupted, surprising me with the warmth in his voice and the affection while using 'friend' to describe himself in relation to me.

"Every time there's a death… my mind works it out in my head. I see organs fail and I see the body arch in my head as they scramble to try and breathe. I hear silent prayers of them asking to be spared. It's always been like that. I can usually differentiate. I can be a robot when I need to be. Turn off emotion and work as a droid and give the standard trained phrase of 'I'm sorry for your loss'… but how can I be expected to differentiate when it's my father?" Emotion choked my words towards the end, tears coming in kind once more.

"No one says you have to." He offered softly, "No one's expecting anything of you except to grieve."

"I… I can't." I said weakly, hating the words that were bubbling up in my throat. I bit my lips together to try and keep them from spilling out, to maintain some form of personal detachment from my boss. From Ronon's best friend. It didn't work. "I'm not strong enough to pull myself back together after I break. I never have been. That's why taking a job on Atlantis was such a huge thing to me. I'm not a risk taker. I'm not a warrior. I'm not like Teyla."

"Why would you want to be? Why be anything other than who you are?" I knew he was digging at this point. He was trying to get me to say what he already knew. I almost hated him in that moment for being too damn perceptive.

"Because being a doctor doesn't allow you to be weak. Being around all of you, I shouldn't be weak." I admitted softly, looking at the ground in shame.

"We deal with McKay! He makes up symptoms of some rare mysterious sickness because he's a hypochondriac. He may be smart as hell, but that makes him an annoyance sometimes. It doesn't make him _weak_. It makes him human."

"But he's part of the team… I'm…"

"You are too." Sheppard interrupted, his Colonel voice slipped on as he stared hard at me to prove his point. "Whatever's going on between you and Ronon and McKay… it doesn't change the fact that at one point or another, you've saved all of our lives on multiple occasions. You have horrible off-world luck," he stated with emphasis and a teasing smile which caused me to let out a watery laugh, "But you're part of our team. We're all here for you. If you weren't part of our team, do you really think we'd be here right now, Jennifer? We _all_ came here for _you_. Even Ronon came without a second thought."

I blanched at that, or maybe it was the fourth shot of scotch. That had to equal about two glasses worth by now. Watching my father drink this stuff, he'd never filled a glass more than a quarter of the way. It was too smooth, too strong, too delectable to waste time slugging. It was a drink to be enjoyed. Now, I just wanted more and fast. I didn't want to think or deal with Ronon right now. The situation was getting out of hand. I was losing him… though that's the point.

"What's the point?" John asked with a cock of his head and confused expression. Had I said that out loud? Shit.

"Nothing." I shut down immediately, refusing any more scotch and biting my lips between my teeth so painfully that I was sure I'd feel the indents for hours.

"Whatever's goin' on with you and Ronon, Doc…"

"Is none of your business." I said in a clipped tone, before blushing slightly and adding, "Sir." Regardless of the friendly demeanor we'd been sharing over scotch in a dark, cramped closet, he still outranked me.

"I know." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I just wanna make sure what you're doing, whatever it is, is what you want to be doing. Life's too short, doc. Don't let it get away." He said as he struggled to stand in the small space, getting tangled in clothes as he pushed the doors open. He stepped out as a blast of cool air hit me from the bedroom, and I realized how stuffy it'd gotten in the closet. "C'mon doc. Let's celebrate a life, not mourn it." He said as he held his hand out to me. I accepted and he hoisted me out of the closet.

* * *

Sheppard had said a celebration, and that's what we'd gave. After the funeral, we went back to my father's house and broke out all of his liquor and proceeded to toast in the honor of him, lost soldiers, _Carson_, life, puppies… anything really to have an excuse to slosh back more of the alcohol. Each toast chipped away a little more. Whether it was chipping away the pain or the façade I wore, I wasn't sure. But he kept watching me. It made my face feel warm, and my heart thudded.

Wasn't he done with me yet? Was it just his pride that was hurt and causing him to stick around? Why was he still looking at me like _that_?

Lorne stumbled on photo albums and the home videos collections. The latter confused Teyla and Ronon considerably. We tried explaining that they were like the movies John showed them, but they couldn't fathom it. So before I knew what was happening, Evan had popped in a few tape and we were watching my parents and me dance across the screen at various ages and monumental moments. My high school graduation was one of them, my mother cheering loudly as my name was called and a bumbling 15 year old me shyly walked across the stage. I could make out my father hooting loudly next to my Mom before his face cut in front of the camera in jubilance.

"Chris', Kell'r. You're a youn' lookin' 18 ye'r ol'." Sheppard said, the alcohol affecting him and missing most of the letters in his words, including half of my name.

"She was 15." A gruff voice responded behind me, quietly. I turned sharply to see Ronon staring at me, he face guarded as he leant casually against the door in his black formal attire from the funeral. The first few buttons were popped open for comfort with his arms crossed across his chest. I nearly groaned aloud at the image but was more struck that he remembered what I'd told him in the infirmary. I'd only divulged that information to him on Atlantis.

Rodney was the only one not drinking out of fear of something or other, I can't remember 'cause my brain's a little fuzzy, but it was at that revelation that he started questioning me on random things to find out just how smart I was.

I blanched at the video that was popped in next. I'd tried to stop it, but Lorne was too insistent in his liquored state. To say it sobered things immediately was an understatement. No one else understood the significance of it. They didn't seem to realize that for the first time in all the videos that when the camera was on the tripod, there were only two people in front of it. Only two people sitting at the Christmas tree. It was the first Christmas without my mother. And now in a few months, it'd be the first Christmas without my father. The first new year, the first Easter, the first birthday. I had to go through the firsts again. This time with my father, both my parents gone.

I stood abruptly, no one noticing as Lorne switched to another home video, everyone intrigued by learning more about Jennifer Keller's dorky past. Good thing too, it was a school talent show that came up next. My first and last foray into attempting to fit in during grade school.

The docks were cool, a light breeze disturbing the water with ripples. The moon shimmered against the surface. It reminded me of times when I'd came out here at night to escape my own thoughts. Memories of unpleasant days where kids would taunt. Being the youngest in the senior class, it made me an easy target for the bitchy girls who needed to pick on people to feel good about themselves. Justify their imperfections with a scalpel and daddy's money.

"Hey you." Evan's voice sounded from behind me, a heavy weight dropping around my shoulders as he slung his arm around me, a beer swinging loosely in his hand and hitting my bicep as his unsteady form rocked us back and forth. Drunk men on piers, not a good idea. Good thing I was a doctor and knew CPR.

"Back at'cha." I responded lightly, a forced smile lost in his hazy state. "Maybe you should slow down there. Wandering around by yourself while drunk isn't too smart Lorne. I don't want to be toasting you in a week." I tried to make light of it, but it was still hard.

"You better toast me!" He said loudly, gesturing wildly for no reason, "Death isn't the end, doc! It's the beginning of a whole new life. There's gotta be something _after_ life. You can't not believe that with everything we know that say… they don't." He pointed to Mister and Missus Farley who walked along the other side of the lake. An older couple who'd been married most of their lives and still seemed in love. I wanted that, and yet here I was reflecting over an alien who didn't understand Earth customs like that.

"Sometimes I don't know what to believe, Evan. Sometimes things just smack you in the face and you don't know what to do. Right now, _breathing_ hurts." I admitted to Evan, knowing more than likely in the morning he wouldn't remember this conversation. Thank God for small favors.

"Things get better over time, Jen. Don't worry. He's gonna live on in you forever. Both your parents will. They raised you and morphed you into the person you are today. Their best qualities are in there," he tapped over my heart, "And that's what matters. As long as you listen to that," he tapped my heart once more, "You'll honor them in the best way by doing what you think is right, and that's really all any parent wants for there kid."

"Wow, Evan." I was truly shocked. "That was… incredibly sober of you." Was all I was able to articulate as the words sunk in. Perhaps he was right. But the grieving frame of mind didn't allow logic to comfort. I'd tried on my own for hours now. Days even. It refused to work.

Evan guzzled back the rest of his beer and promptly belched loudly, a cloud of sour alcohol filling my nostrils unpleasantly. "Need a refill!" He shouted unnecessarily, before turning and stumbling towards the house. I watched to make sure he was off the pier, and then faced the water again. It was a few moments before I heard him say boisterously, "Ronon! My man!" Followed by another belch and a few hiccups.

My spine straightened, tightening painfully as Ronon's heavy foot falls creaked against the wooden planks of the old pier. Someone hated me. I knew it. He stopped next to me, standing wordlessly with his hands in his pockets and stared out at the water.

No words were spoken, no movements aside from deep breaths and blinking, the occasional shift of weight between feet. I would've enjoyed it if it weren't for the fact that I wanted to wrap myself in him and never be released. My mother was gone. My father was gone. And I was forcing Ronon away out of pure fear.

The thought caused a bitter, hollow laugh to bubble up. It startled Ronon, and I saw him grimace out of the corner of my eye. I knew why. Even the laugh sounded foreign to my own ears. It was that of a jaded, bitter woman who didn't feel anything and wished for the end. The laughter turned into hysterics. Uncontrollable laughter turned into tears.

He was hesitant, but he dragged me into the comfort of his arms, providing warmth in the cold of solitude. My tears soaked his nice shirt, my fingers grasped desperately at the back of his shirt as I tried to pull myself closer.

His arms wrapped around me tighter, his nose nuzzling my neck as we clung to one another. Different reasons, but the same outcome. My sobs wracked violently and I needed comfort. I _needed_. Something that was foreign. I'd trained myself to try and _not_ need people. Not become dependent after growing up with barely any friends and focused on academics and getting into med school.

But now I felt like I had nothing and no one left. And because of this, and the enticing smell of Ronon and the way his breath feathered across my neck in a delicious cloud of moist warmth, I knew what I was going to do and didn't have enough time, nor a reason even, to talk myself out of it.

My lips trailed a path along his neck, passing over his Satedan tattoo as I willed him to lift his head and found his lips in a cold, hollow kiss of pure needy grief. I parted for the briefest of seconds, before I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushed my body against his until our hips aligned and his mouth met mine in a messy kiss that promised of comfort for the moment, and nothing in the future.

He forced himself away, his hands grasping my wrists and pulled my hands away from his face. He released a sigh and I released a sob. This was it.

"I have nothing left." I sobbed, unwilling to pull my wrists from Ronon's grasp, unwilling to pull away from him at all as our foreheads rested together, his eyes still closed and mine leaking tears. "My dad… he was all I had left. I have no one left." I sobbed, breaking through the façade and finally letting the grief consume.

"No he wasn't. If you'd actually _look_, Jen, you'd see that you have a lot more on Atlantis then you think." Ronon said as he pulled away, guarding his eyes from me as his hands stroked away the hair that stuck to my wet cheeks.

I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Including you?" I knew I sounded weak, borderline pathetic, but I couldn't help it. I needed Ronon more than I needed air. It just wasn't fair after all this time to yank him back into my life after forcing him out and hurting him. He'd hate me.

He remained quiet. I knew in that instance that he wanted to say that it included him, but he wouldn't. Because it didn't anymore. I succeeded. I was on a pier, with all my friends in my house and the person I loved standing in front of me, and I was more alone than I ever imagined I could be.

* * *

I've decided that with the end of this, it's kinda bittersweet but wraps it up… but… I will continue with a sequel in due time. I have no clue why, but this just keeps calling to me. I actually wasn't going to do this. I was actually going to do the two-shot chapters from _Ronon's _point of view in a new story. The same exact scenes, just what he was going through. Especially with the second chapter when Jennifer was gone for so long. I still might do that. Not sure yet.

If you want to see the sequel, go ahead and add me to author alerts. It should be up relatively soon. It'll have an actual plot aside from R/K… so I need to figure one out, lol.

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and shown positivity towards this fic! I'm overwhelmed by the kindness in this fandom where I've experienced a lot of negativity in others. You're all the best, and when I hope to see you for the sequel! Also, I plan to reply to every review to signed in members. Thank you again!


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